


Dead Flowers

by SketchyGalore



Series: Dead Flowers [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Robin (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: F/M, Romance, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2141109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchyGalore/pseuds/SketchyGalore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As much as she loves her long time boyfriend Dick Grayson, she can't help but feel a void left by the death of her childhood best friend Jason Todd. When she finally starts to let go all these years later, what happens when the Red Hood begins to terrorize Gotham?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the first installment to this ongoing fanfiction! Thank you for reading!

I picked up, the crisp browning roses I had placed on the cool granite the week before. Meekly watching some of the petals break with the summer winds. Replacing its residence with a twin bouquet. The heat from the sun basking down on the few graves around this one. I leaned downward to face the engravement, brushing my fingers against it, his smile gently grazing my memories. “See you tomorrow Jas.” I whispered, before walking to the mansion, which housed this private cemetery. Jason and I seemed to converse less every day. Thought one sided, it lacked a certain response I usually aided. Not that his death caused a significant decline in conversation, Jason Todd was always a man of minimalism, and sarcasm.

 

I opened to solid black, wooden doors of Wayne Manor, it’s interior was as bleak, and emotionless as Bruce was. I idolly admired the antique stylistic choice that stayed through different generations of Wayne.

 

“Excuse me, Miss, could I offer you some lunch? Also how was your morning?” Alfred’s voice, nearly made me jump, pulling my attention away from my inherited housing. I smiled half heartedly at Wayne Manors very own Alfred Pennyworth.

 

“Its a Saturday Alfred, it was the same as always. Also lunch sounds good.” I mumbled, regretting my tone. Alfred was the only parent I ever experienced, in my life. After Jason’s death I never returned home, and that was just fine, as no one ever bothered to see where I had ventured to. Alfred extended his hand, softly pulling a broken petal from my shirt, I sighed looking down as he imprisoned it with his fist.

 

“Master Jason’s roses look quite stunning today, have you gone to a new flower shop?” I cringed, most people in the manor never really talked about Jas as lightly as Alfred could, and most times he didn’t. I shook my head, not willing to verbally answer him. “Well, it would seem his grave is anew. What did the two of you talk about this morning?” I felt eyes pierce my back, almost as hard as Alfreds conversation topic was stabbing into my heart. I turned to face a very sleepy Dick, whose face could be easily mistaken for morning grumpy, but I knew it was because Alfred has referred to Jason, and I as a pair. I felt stiff, unfortunately helpless to switch the topic quickly. Dick walked over kissing my forehead.

“Good morning beautiful.” he smiled, brushing the dyed parts of my hair behind my overly pierced ears. I could see his pain, as his eyes locked with mine, but as guilt should have flooded my mind, it only remained empty. As sorry as I was, I don’t regret loving Jason first.

 

Consciously knowing I hadn’t answered Alfred, I hugged Dick, before he walked off to ready himself for the day. I followed the butler into the kitchen, he turned to me shortly after putting some water on the stove to boil. “I know Master Richard understands you miss Jason, and though it’s been years since you were with him, it wouldn’t hurt anyone to send Master Richard some flowers too.” I could hear wisdom peer through Alfreds words, I looked down at the pot, as the water quaked slightly. I searched my vast mind, as my eyes wandered through the windows that overlooked the long unyielding garden.The kitchen was painted an unexciting gray, which made even the brightest of Alfreds smiles bleak.

 

“Alfred...” I started without fully knowing where I was going with this. I felt pain tinge throughout my fatigued body. “I love him, what more does he want?” I mouthed off, without thinking, I heard a soft grunt behind me. I closed my eyes, I knew he was there, reaping my mistakes. I turned to face a blank stare from my lover. Dick looked to the side, his face beginning to contort. I heard Alfred shuffle away behind me, making a strategic, and hasty escape. “Dick, I-” He cut me off, looking me dead in the eye.

 

“I don’t need to be showered in gifts, just once I’d like to know you love me more than a dead boy.” Dicks words nearly knocked me to the wood floor. There was nothing I could say to reassure him, because as much as I cared for Dick, everything he implied was correct I loved a dead 15 year old boy I once knew, and though Jason isn’t here he still managed to pull Dick, and I apart. I motioned to walk forward toward the dark haired acrobat, and it wasn’t until now I noticed a bruise appearing on his shoulder, stretching to his neck, along with various cuts around his entire body. The visible bandages through his thin blue shirt, were beginning to stain, as the blood casually seeped through, turning the blue to an odd, nauseating purple. I didn’t say anything, I just lept forward studying his body, pulling at his shirt to get a better look at his injuries. I cried out when I saw a bruise stretching from his chest to his hip, I looked up at him realizing I was crying. Nothing he had previously heard mattered, he pulled away mentioning something about being okay, which was obviously false. He faked a smile so well, that even I believed it sometimes. “I suppose it was a rough night.” He half heartedly chuckled. “Please, it’s not as bad as it looks, only bruises. If it was that bad I would have slept all day.” He mumbled trying to calm me down, which made me feel significantly worse. After everything he puts up with, he has to deal with a selfish girlfriend who can’t even pay attention to him as much as her best friend who is currently six feet under. No, he doesn’t even yell at me, like he should, instead he barely stands straight trying to comfort me, about his injuries.

 

“You told me, it was surveillance only last night. That, there hasn’t been anything in awhile. How does that happen on surveillance? Where was Batman when someone was beating the shit out of you? Where the fuck was Bruce, when his son was taking the blows for him.” It wasn't until Dick jumped and grabbed me, trying to quiet me, that I realized I was screaming my head off at him, at nothing, at Bruce. I will never forgive Bruce for letting Jason die, I will never forgive Bruce for letting a child fight crime, I will never forgive Bruce for not just letting these boys live a normal life. I will never forgive Bruce for letting child, after child take the heat for his agenda.

 

Its been something of an ongoing thing, that every bat boy pleaded, that I never let Bruce know that it was clear to me what they did every night. That it wasn’t late night volunteer work, it was their possible death sentence. Dick, had pulled me along the hallway, painted with this eerie deep brown, with odd photographs I was never a fan of. It was long, and it smelt of foreign memories someone once had. My breaths were short, and abrupt as we walked at an alarming pace, I wondered if it was because he wanted to conceal me from Bruce, before he had a chance to exterminate all his loose ends. We had to pass the mansions entrance to reach the stairs, which opened, with what seemed to be perfect timing. A young boy walked through the door with a half opened red book bag, he held an uncanny resemblance to the Robins before him. Another boy that fell victim to Batman’s delusional visions for Gotham. “Hey guys! Where are you going?” He interrupted my worry momentarily. He walked over to us, holding a sweatshirt under his left arm, with a big naive smile. He placed his stuff to the side, as he looked anxiously between myself, and Dick. 

“Hey baby bird.” I mumbled, responding without giving him much attention. Tim frowned, letting out a small huff. He hated that nickname, but it became habit. Ever since he earned his title it was all I called him. It let up slightly as he had gotten older, but not much. I could hear Dicks breathing stagger, pulling me out from my thoughts. He began gasping for air, I turned to him. He stumbled back toward me, gripping my arm, unwillingly leaning on me.

 

“Dick? Are you okay?” I began to panic again.

“Yeah, jus- I’m, I’m fine.” Was all he could say before he collapsed on the ground, hitting the wood with a loud thud. I screamed, falling to my knees beside him. I shouted his name over, and over again. Why wasn't he waking up? I shook him harder... nothing. 

“Tim get Alfred, get someone!” I shouted to the short dark haired boy, as he began to run toward the kitchen. I turned back to an unconscious Dick Grayson.

Please god, I can't do this... not again.


End file.
